


Only Got Bad Things On My Mind When I'm With You

by TheQueenOfAlexandria



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 07:10:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17442299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueenOfAlexandria/pseuds/TheQueenOfAlexandria
Summary: Added scenes to the Raven Cycle Series.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know if I will continue with these writings. Got a few more ideas, but they may just continue to float around my head until they die. 
> 
> Today I needed to write and this is what I came up with. Wrote on my lunch break. Feel free to send me edits if that is your deal. 
> 
> Much Love xoxo

Of course, Adam was late. 

Gansey paced around Monmouth, stopping ever few feet to fix a stack of books that had long been scattered across the floor or inspecting his mint plant as if he knew anything about taking care of it other than remembering to give it water every few weeks. 

Truthfully, the knowledge that Adam was late was just as concerning to Ronan. It went against everything that was Adam Parrish. 

“Look, are we all supposed to pretend that Adam hasn't turned into some kind of magical asshole or is that job specific to the two of you?” he asked, making his voice as obnoxiously sarcastic as possible despite his true curiosity. 

What were they supposed to be doing about Adam? It was obvious that everyone was trying to pretend that Adam was the same, but Ronan could barely stand the frantic look in Adam’s eyes, or the way he sat with his arms wrapped around himself trying to physically hold himself together, or the fact that he was fucking late again. 

Of course, Adam could have just been avoiding dealing with whatever disaster was going on with Gansey and Blue. Surely even Adam must have noticed by now? Ronan allowed himself to wonder what Adam had thought about the whole situation seeing as how Blue was still technically his girlfriend. Is Blue who he really… He cut himself off mid thought. If Ronan started to worry about Adam now, he didn’t think he would ever be able to stop. 

“Ronan,” Gansey warned, though his impending lecture was interrupted by Ronan’s phone ringing. To everyone’s surprise, including his own, Ronan pushed himself off the ground and made his way over to the obnoxious sound. He looked at the screen with mild disgust, but did not answer. 

Instead, he slipped the phone into his pocket and started walking toward the door. 

“Well boys,” he called over his shoulder, forcing himself not to smile as he eyed Blue bristle at his choice of words. “Duty calls.” 

“Where are you going?” Gansey called with a flustered squeak. “Adam is not even here yet!”

Ronan stopped and turned toward Gansey, making a show of looking at his naked, watch-less wrist. Judging by the identical looks on both Blue and Gansey’s faces, the charade had proved his point well enough that he did not have to elaborate. 

“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve got protection,” Ronan snarked, wheeling himself around coming face to face with Adam. He stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet in a desperate attempt to avoid touching Adam at all costs. He shook himself and glared in a pitiful attempt to save face. From the slightly amused lift of Adam’s eyebrow, he failed miserable. 

“What do you need protection for?” Adam asked, meeting Ronan’s gaze dead on, feigning innocence. Ronan knew better than that. Adam rarely asked questions he wasn’t already thinking about the answer to. It pissed Ronan off. 

“Well, Parrish, when two people love each other very much,” he began, using his hands to make obscene gestures. Adam moved closer, unflinching. 

“Who do you love?” Adam challenge fiercely. It was an unfair question, and by the slightly nervous look on Adam’s face, he knew it. The problem was never that Ronan didn’t, couldn’t, love. The problem was that he couldn’t stop himself. He love his parents. He loved his brothers. He loved Gansey. He loved…and loved and loved, until it felt like there was nothing left for himself. 

Briefly he considered telling Adam all of this, as if Adam really wanted to know. How easy and painful it would have been to allow himself to open up to this serious, beautiful, magical man in front of him. How desperately he wanted it. How much he hated himself for it. 

Until he remembered Gansey and Blue behind him and Kavinsky in his pocket. His phone buzzed again in impatience. Suddenly, Ronan couldn’t fucking stand anything anymore.

“Fuck you, Adam,” he said in a low growl. There was a harshness in his voice that made Adam flinch, but he refused to feel bad about it. Instead, he shoved his way past the boy and out into the summer heat. 

There was no problem in the world that Kavinsky couldn’t make worse and right now Ronan was desperate him. 

\---

“Yeah, he wasn’t lying about the condoms,” Noah said, popping into the space between Blue and Adam and answering the unspoken questions that filled the room in Ronan’s wake. “Is he really leaving to meet some skank? Yes, but don’t worry. Ronan is saving himself for someone special.” 

Noah looked around the room, smiling too cheerily for someone who’s friends refused to meet his gaze. 

“Thats a relief, I guess,” Gansey said cautiously, breaking the silence, and to his credit he did look relieved. 

“You know, it doesn’t really surprise me,” Blue added. “I can see Ronan as a closeted romantic, though I didn’t really think he was into that whole ‘Save Yourself For Marriage” church deal.” 

“Can we not talk about Ronan’s sex life?” Adam said fiercely causing Blue and Gansey to shoot looks of panicked warning at each other. Adam starred them down until Noah stepped in closer blocking his view. 

“I know what you meant,” Noah said soft enough that only Adam could hear. “But he doesn’t. He thought you were making fun of him.” Adam nodded, still carefully inspecting the ground where Noah’s feet should have been. 

“Kavinsky?” he asked in a violent whisper, forced through closed teeth as if he were fighting every instinct in his body screaming at him to keep his mouth shut. Noah did not say anything, but that was enough.

Fucking Kavinsky. Adam may be trailer trash, but Kavinsky was a hundred times worse than that. His money made him dirty. Dirty and disgusting and not worth anybody’s time. What the hell could Ronan possibly want with him? 

“Kavinsky is what he needs right now,” Noah whispered. Adam jumped, so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he forgot Noah was there listening in. He needed to control himself. 

“I’m sorry,” Noah said sadly. “I can’t help it. I see everything.” 

“What does Ronan need?” he asked desperately. Fuck it. If Noah knew everything already, what good was hiding? 

“That’s cheating,” Noah said, with a sad smile.

“Then what was the point of telling me everything else?” Adam asked exasperated, his voice harsher and louder than he meant it to be. Gansey and Blue turned their attention away from each other in favor of listening in to Adam’s conversation. They were looking at him as if he were a zoo animal. 

Adam stared at the other boy waiting for an answer, but Noah simply shrugged not looking the slightest bit repentant. 

“I just remembered I have homework,” Adam said, turning to Gansey and Blue. They looked at each other, involuntarily and just as quickly averted their eyes. Adam ignored them. 

“Can I come over later?” he asked Blue, though part of him didn’t really want to go over later.

A large piece of him still wanted Blue. He wanted to trace his hand down her body, wrap his arms around her hips and pull her in close to him. He wanted to feel her breath on his neck as she breathed out his name. God, he wanted. 

But what had at first been easy between them was twisted now in Gansey, in Ronan, in Noah, in Kavinsky, in Whelk. Whatever Blue had been to him before she wasn’t that now and they both knew it. 

Instead of answering right away, her eyes shot over to Gansey again like she was looking for some kind of sign from him on how to proceed. 

“Whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes, not bothering to pretend to play this game anymore. “I’ve got to go.” 

“Adam, wait,” Blue called, but it was 5 seconds too late.

He barely resisted the urge to tear the door off of its hinges, though he did slam it with enough force to shatter one of the panes of glass closest to the roof. He stared at the hollow space where the window used to be. 

Who am I, he thought to himself. Adam Parrish, son of Robert Parrish. No. Adam Parrish, friend of Blue and Gansey. Who am I, he thought again but this time he felt a stirring inside of him, like the wind in the trees or a ripple of water. Suddenly he could smell the cool dampness of moss that inexplicably reminded him of Ronan. He shook the thought from his head as he ran down the stairs into the heat of the summer. 

God Fucking Dammit. 

—-

Ronan had hated Adam Parrish from the first second he saw him. 

He hated his hair that never seemed to stay neatly in place, no matter how many times he nervously brushed it from his eyes. He hated they way his hands gracefully twirled a pen between his fingers when he took a break from writing his obsessively detailed notes. He hated that his lips flicked up in quiet amusement when Ronan spouted ridiculous quips at Welk in Latin, while the rest of the class sat there like the dumbshits he long suspected they were. 

He hated that Gansey had suddenly become interested in this boy, this stupid, genius boy with the shaggy hair and beautiful hands and quick wit. 

He hated that Adam Parrish hated him. It made things easier and harder at the same time. 

Just when Ronan had settled into violently ignoring his crush, the boys met Blue and she ruined everything. 

Realistically, the chances of Adam being gay were slim. The chances of Adam being into Ronan were even slimmer. And now he knew for a fact that Adam Parrish would never like him back. It hurt more than he wanted it to. 

Kavinsky never met a secret he didn't already know. Ronan never had to tell Kavinisky anything. He just knew. It made their friendship or whatever it was between them, bearable. It was why he often choose Kavinsky over Gansey in his times of need. K asked for no explanations, in fact he asked for nothing of Ronan but to put his life on the line. 

Gansey asked for Ronan to live his life. Kavinsky asked for Ronan to risk it. 

His life, Ronan thought. That was a price his was willing to pay. Sometimes he wanted so badly to end it all. To never have to look Gansey or Declan or Matthew in the eye and say this is what I am. He would never have to face their rejection. That. That would really kill him. That he could never recover from. It was a different kind of gamble.

Kavinsky was easier. 

But things had slowly been changing. Gansey had been pulling away from both Adam and Ronan and had been finding his own solace in Blue. Blue had begun pulling away from Adam. Ronan found Adam turning to him and Ronan found himself pulling away from Kavinsky. It was a fucking train-wreck waiting to happen, but sometimes it seemed as if things were balancing out. 

Other times, Ronan could see the sparks of an oncoming collision from a mile away. It was why he had to leave. He couldn't face Adam that day. Ronan had started to see flashes of challenge in his face, daring him for once to just speak the truth out loud. But the second it surfaced, the expression was wiped clean and replaced by something else. Something Ronan couldn't quite understand yet. 

Adam thought he was unknowable, but Ronan was always paying attention and learning. Still, some parts of Adam were a complete mystery that Ronan didn't have to courage to investigate. It was best to stick with what he knew. 

As promised, Kavinsky was waiting at the fairground with a cigarette dangling from his sharp grin and a full tank of gas. He looked kind of sexy leaning against his car, eyes trained on Ronan as if he were undressing him where he stood. It felt nice to be known. 

“Did you get lost, Princess?” Kavinsky asked, as he dropped the cigarette from his mouth and finally tore his gaze off of Ronan to look toward the sky. “I was about to send Prokopenko to ask Daddy Gansey if you could come out to play.” 

“Fuck you, K,” Ronan sneered. It felt real. Usually, it was the Gansey name drop that did it. Kavinisky loved towing the line between turning Ronan on and pissing him off. He liked to see how far he could shove before Ronan shoved back. It was like some sick kind of foreplay between them. 

“Im here. What the fuck do you want?” He asked, though he already knew the answer. 

“I want you, though with that attitude I can't remember why,” Kavinsky said. Ronan looked back at him, unimpressed and Kavinsky laughed him off before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small baggie. He tossed it to Ronan who let it drop to the ground in front of him, making no move to catch it. 

Ronan had never really been into drugs. Alcohol was more his speed. Alcohol made him forget. It let him sleep. He found drugs to be too fickle. You never really knew what you were taking and you never really knew how you would react. K had given him a small pill at the first part he ever went to. Ronan wound up stuck in a nightmare for 3 days. By the time he came to, Gansey had called Declan. They still could not look at him the same. 

“Take your treat,” K said, nodding to the baggie on the ground. “You really are such a good dog, Lynch. I whistle, you come running. You gotta leave Gansey behind though. I’m not interested in sharing custody.”

Ronan scoffed. He would never choose Kavinsky over Gansey. Not really, though neither of them seemed to ever understand that. Kavinsky was a way to get through the night. Gansey was a way to survive. 

“I’m never going to choose you,” Ronan said, making his intentions perfectly clear. Kavinsky just smiled. He gestured to the empty fair ground. 

“Look around you, sweetheart. You already choose me. I understand you keeping Gansey around. He's like you very own personal get out of jail free card.” Kavinsky walked closer to him, stopping close enough for Ronan to feel the heat rolling off of his body. His eyes pupils were blown, but his eyes were wide and searching. He was digging for something. 

“What I don't understand is why you are keeping company with Trailer Trash Parrish. Isn't he a little below your pay grade,” Kavinsky asked. Ronan clenched his fist, to keep himself in check. Whatever response Kavinsky was searching for, Ronan wasn't going to give it to him.

“I don’t know. Maybe thats the point?” He continued, looking pointedly at Ronan’s clenched fist. “He sucks you off, you throw him some scraps of food every now and then. Can’t say the boy doesn't look like he needs a good meal.” 

Ronan punched him in the face before he realized what he was doing. Kavinsky hit the ground as if he were dead, but when he looked up to Ronan he was smiling. It wasn’t his normal drug induced cheer. It was slow and threatening. Ronan realized his mistake immediately. 

“Poor little Lynch. You are such a sucker for Daddy issues, huh?” Kavinsky said, pulling himself off the ground and wiping the blood from his mouth. “What will Gansey say?” 

Ronan turned is back on the boy before he could hear anything else. He drove through the rest of the night, his thoughts jumbled by impossible speeds and electric beats. By the time he let himself find his way to St. Agnes one thought had wormed his way into his head and dug and dug and dug until nothing else existed. 

He looked up to Adam’s window, quickly before making his way into the church. A light was on. Adam was either already awake or had yet to go to sleep. Ronan’s heart squeezed sadly at the thought of either. He sat down in the last pew and put his head between his hands. 

Kavinsky knew all of his secrets and who could even guess at what the fuck he would do with them. 

—-


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another writing I needed to get out today. 
> 
> I didn't edit, so there is that... 
> 
> Peace.

Ronan heard the car before he saw it. If the car itself wasn’t magic, the driver of it was. The driver was young, probably Ronan’s age, but looked as though he had a lived this life a thousand times before. He stepped out of the car with a practiced grace that looked natural, completely unaware that his arrival had caused such an abrupt end to tennis practice. 

The boy was attractive in a way that made Ronan sick to his stomach. He had to force himself to look away. The rest of the tennis team did not seem to suffer the same fear of being caught staring and openly gaped at the boy and his car. 

He walked by the courts, absently thumbing at his lower lip, still oblivious to his onlookers. When he passed Ronan, he looked up and met the other boys eyes. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and he nodded toward Ronan as if saying, “Don’t worry, I’m here now.” 

Ronan felt his heart skipped a beat. He needed to get out of here. 

He stuffed his racquet in his tennis bag for something to do and pulled pulled the zipper closed more harshly than necessary. It felt satisfying. By the time he looked back up, the boy was gone. 

Ronan felt disappointment and then relief. He really needed to get the fuck out of here. 

He looked around the parking lot for Declan. Of course, the fucker wasn’t around. What the could he possibly be doing? Or more likely who was he doing? Ronan’s “parents” had somehow come to the conclusion that Ronan did not need his own car when Declan was fully capable of driving them both to school and practice. He was sure if he called his Dad right now, a brand new car would be delivered by the end of the week, but that wasn’t the kind of guilt Ronan felt like living with. 

Maybe when you “mature” a little bit, Ronan’s mother had said, leading him to the conclusion that this was all Declan’s fault, as usual. 

Ronan has just pulled out his phone to text his brother, when a white car whipped through the parking lot and skidded to a stop in front of him. 

“Hey Princess,” the driver said, leaning over the passenger seat to run his gaze over Ronan. “Need a ride?”

He looked back at the car eyeing the bumper sticker haphazardly placed over the back tire. 

Fuck your past. Fuck your future. Live for now. 

As tacky as it was, Ronan could relate. He wished he could forget more than a few things about himself and he would do anything to escape his endless worry of what he would become. 

Ronan sighed and looked around the half empty parking lot for a second considering his options. No Volvo in sight meant waiting for fuck knows how long. The pretty boy from earlier was just returning to his car. He pulled open his door, but didn’t immediately get inside. He looked over the hood of his car and once again locked eyes with Ronan. Before he was even fully aware of what he was doing he threw himself into Kavinsky’s passenger seat. 

 

“Bad day, sweetheart?” he asked, lowering his sunglass enough to look Ronan over before laughing and speeding out the lot. The question might have seemed like a nice gesture to anyone who did not know Kavinsky. It was probably a mistake for Ronan to accept his ride. 

Still, being in the car sent a thrill through him. Regardless of his faults, Kavinsky seemed to know Ronan in a way no-one else did without Ronan having to say anything. It felt relaxing to be known even for a few hours. 

At some point. Ronan must have passed out, lulled to sleep by the low, thrumming bass of electronica and the hum of the highway under the tires. He woke to the rising sun and an empty seat beside him. 

Kavinsky was stretched out over the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette. 

“The fuck, K,” Ronan growled, trying to pull himself together. They were pulled over on the side of the road in front of Ronan’s driveway. The woods surrounding the property blocked their view of the house, but it didn’t matter. 

“You couldn’t get closer to the house?” Ronan yelled, grabbing his bag off the floor in the back seat. “Maybe you could have, I don’t know, woke me the fuck up?” 

Kavinsky walked around to Ronan’s side of the car and leaned in the window. 

“What fun would that be?” He asked, leaning in close enough for Ronan to feel his breath of his face. It smelled like cigarettes and dysfunction. Ronan wondered what he would taste like. 

Probably disgusting. Probably amazing.

“Plus, your dad scares the shit out of me,” Kavinsky said, leaning even closer to pop open Ronan’s door. They were so close now. If Ronan could catch his breath, they would be breathing each other’s air. 

“Get the fuck out of my car, Princess,” K hissed and the spell was broken. 

—- 

Ronan walked himself up the long driveway thinking over the previous night. 

The truth was Ronan didn’t know who he had a crush on more, Kavinsky or his car. He had a strong feeling it was the latter. They hadn’t done anything last night except drive, but it was exactly what he had needed. His sleep had been getting more and more sporadic lately. He needed someone, something, to calm him. 

The peace he had been feeling from a full night’s sleep was short lived. Declan was waiting for him on the porch, despite the early hour.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Declan hissed as Ronan brushed past him.

“Calm down, Dad,” Ronan answered more sarcastically then he felt was necessary. He liked pissing Declan off. He liked making him worry about maintaining his precious reputation. He never belonged with them even back when they wanted him to. Declan always held himself slightly apart. Declan was a black sheep by choice, though Ronan thought his family may have had too many involuntary black sheep to make a difference. 

“Ronan, you’re lucky it is me and not Dad,” Declan shot back. When Ronan didn’t answer, he knew he crossed a line. His gaze softened. He looked like a faker. 

“Did you even sleep?” Declan asked, sounding more concerned than he probably was. Ronan gave him a sidelong glance trying to figure out what he was really trying to ask masked in all his brotherly worry. 

Before last night, Ronan hadn’t slept in days. Lately, he had been dreaming more and more frequently. He was beginning to feel like he was losing control. He kept meaning to ask his father about it but he was never home. And when he was, well, it was never the right time. 

The last time Ronan fully slept he had been woken by the worst nightmare he had ever had. He found himself in a dark woods, something chasing him. He couldn't see what it was, but he knew it was always there, right behind him, wanting him dead. He could hear the clicking every time he turned around. 

He woke up clutching a rosary to his chest, the beads were the color of blood. It took everything in his power not to smash it against the wall. Instead, he tucked it into the back of his desk drawer, hoping it would never have to see it again. 

The thought that Declan probably knew more about him than he let on was disarming, but he wouldn't say anything as long as Ronan didn’t. It had been putting a strain on their relationship for the past few years. Ronan shifted between feeling guilty for ruining their relationship to feeling bitter for having to hide who he was. 

If Ronan turned around he could still see a time when he and his brother were actually friends. The further they walked their own path, the less they became to each other, soon enough they would be complete strangers. Part of him wished for his brother back. Part of him didn’t give a shit. 

Rather than tell Declan any of that, Ronan let himself into the house, letting the screen door slam behind him. Declan sighed, but followed him in. 

“Go shower,” Declan said. “I’ll make breakfast before school.” 

—-

Admittedly, Ronan felt better after a shower.

“Did you see the new guy at school?” Declan asked, offhandedly, though Declan rarely did anything without a purpose. 

Ronan pretended to be distracted by his shoe, as if tying his laces somehow required all of his attention and focus. 

“Yeah, maybe,” was all he said. 

“I think he’s in your grade. Supposedly has more money than God. I think he’s a Kennedy or something like that.” Declan said and Ronan remembered why he hated his brother. He looked at people like they were things to collect, to use, or discard of. Relationships meant nothing to him. Declan was in it for himself, always.   
—-

It was a few days before he saw the new boy again, though the talk about him had spread like wildfire. Mid year transfers were hardly a rare occurrence, but something about this one seemed to attract the attention of everyone. Even the teachers seemed excited by him. Money fucking talked. 

He remembered what Declan said about being a Kennedy. Being a politician’s son seemed to fit him, but also it didn’t. The boy in front of him seemed to be occupied by two entirely different people at the exact same time.

Dick Gansey walked across the cafeteria, much like he had done the first time Ronan saw him, completely oblivious to the entire world existing around him. Ronan had to roll his eyes. 

“Shit, Lynch. I was wondering where you were but I see its looks like you got yourself a new toy,” K said as he slammed his lunch tray down on the table, eyeing Gansey with ill concealed jealousy. To be fair, most of the guys at Aglionby were jealous of Gansey. However, where they sought to befriend him, where as Kavinsky sought to knock him down. 

“Didn’t think you liked them so pretty,” he said, giving Gansey the once over. 

Ronan snorted, feigning an indifference he did not feel. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” he sneered, leaning close enough that Kavinsky needed to lean on the back legs of his chair. 

Kavinsky looked shocked for one second before recovering. “I know more about you than you think,” he replied, voice clear, lacking its usual acid. He was looking dead straight into Ronan’s eyes, his own clear for once. “Just ask your Daddy.” 

It was Ronan’s turn to be shocked. They had been taking hits at each other’s sexuality for months, neither of them backing down, neither of them pushing forward. He expected that. But Kavinisky seemed like he was talking about something else entirely. 

Kavisky took a final swig of his chocolate milk before tossing the rest of the container on his tray to soak the untouched food. He pushed the tray toward Ronan and left without another word once again leaving Ronan wondering how exactly Joseph Kavinisky knew his father.

—-

After school he cornered Declan at his car. 

“What do you know about Kavinsky,” he asked. 

Declan whipped his head around the parking lot, looking for anyone who could have been in earshot. Ronan rolled his eyes. It was so like Declan to get worked up over every single thing. 

“Get in the car, Ronan,” he said, his voice pained. 

Normally, Ronan would have been petulant about it, but he needed answers and Declan always seemed to have them.

“You need to stop hanging out with kid. I know you are trying to work through whatever this is,” Declan said, not meeting Ronan’s eyes, but waving his hand dramatically at Ronan as if homosexuality was written all over him. 

Ronan had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from speaking. 

“That is not what I meant,” he hissed. “I want to know what he knows about Dad and why.”  
For the first time in his life, Declan looked scared. 

“What did you mean?” He asked, lamely desperately trying to pull the mask back over his face. It wasn’t working. 

“I mean why the fuck would Kavinsky, of all people, know Dad?” 

Declan didn’t answer. He wouldn’t meet Ronan’s eyes. 

“Cut the crap, Declan and talk to me straight for once,” Ronan pleaded. 

“Poor choice of words, Bro,” he replied, his voice heavy with sarcasm, but it felt false. Declan still wouldn’t me is eyes. 

Ronan wanted to flip a car. Secrets. All the time. He was sick of it. Secrets from his friends, secrets from each other, secrets from himself. He pulled himself out of the car and slammed the door four times before stalking out of the parking lot. 

Declan didn’t follow him. 

—- 

Ronan needed a distraction. 

He walked into the library and found Dick Gansey hunched over a book that looked like a dictionary. Who the fuck was this guy? 

He needed to talk to him. 

“Hey,” he said, pulling his chair around to sit near the other boy. 

“Hey,” Dick said, looking inappropriately shocked that anyone would want to talk to him. Ronan was pretty sure he passed the line for his fan club on the way in. 

“What you got going on here?” he asked. He had seen the Gansey boy with the book before and had desperately wanted to know what it was. It looked like a journal of some kind, though it seemed thoroughly abused. Whatever it was, it seemed to fit to the boy in front of him. Not the politician’s son, the other one. Ronan liked to imagine that is what the inside of Dick’s looked like. 

“Oh,” DIck said looking down at the book as if he didn’t even know it was there, before swiftly closing it. Ronan has to suppress a smile. “These are my notes. From the countries I’ve been, things i’m looking for.” He nodded to himself as if that answer was satisfactory. Maybe to someone else it would have been. 

Tonight, Ronan felt like he had nothing to lose. 

“Tell me about it,” he said, his voice dropped to a whisper. Was he flirting? Maybe. Whatever he was doing, he wanted to do with this boy.

For his part, Dick lit up like a Christmas tree. He pulled open the journal to the first page and pointed at a faded black and white picture. It looked like it was cut out on an encyclopedia. O-wain Glen-dower, Ronan read aloud, before looking over to Dick. 

“What do you know about Welsh kings?” he asked with such intensity that Ronan had no choice but to laugh. One minute with Dick and he already felt better than a lifetime with Declan. 

“I can honestly tell you I do not know a single thing about Welsh kings,” Ronan said, and Dick’s face dropped. Ronan felt the other boy’s disappointment like a bullet. “But I want you to tell me all about him. Come on, Dick, let’s go get some orange juice and you keep talking.”

“Yea. Yeah, of course,” DIck said, standing gracefully like a king rising from his thrown. “And for the love of all things holy, please call me Gansey.”

—-

“Gansey,” was all Ronan could say and he wasn’t even sure if he had managed to say that. His mind felt blank, but whirling, like there were so many thoughts flying around but he couldn’t grab hold of a single one. 

For a moment, he was met with nothing but silence. 

“I’ll be right there,” Gansey said and 10 minutes later he was. 

—-

When he arrived, Ronan was still covered in the blood. The sirens blared but he could not hear them. Gansey grabbed his shoulders to pull him away, but Ronan could not make himself move. He knew he was crying, but he could not feel the tears. This was a dream.  
Declan was stoic. His mother looked empty. This was a dream.

Ronan never had it in him to be one of them. He wore all of his emotions right on his sleeve, he always had. He couldn’t do that now.

He was swinging his fists before he could even think about it. The crack of his knuckles was grounding. The shot that ran through his nose had brought him back to reality. 

This was not a dream.

“I got you,” he felt more than he heard. “I got you.” Gansey arms wrapped around him like a vice, demonstrating a strength hidden under so many layers of nerd. Ronan thought he could feel himself laugh. It sounded crazed. 

“Come on, Ronan,” Gansey whispered in his ear. “Let’s go. You can stay with me.” 

And just like that Gansey saved him.

—- 

Ronan and Declan had fought before but not like this. Not with purpose. With their parents gone they had no one to reign them in anymore. 

They hadn’t spoken for a month before Declan showed up at Monmouth with boxes and an attitude. 

“Get your shit,” he said, shoving at cardboard box at Ronan’s chest. “We’re leaving.”

“He can stay here as long as he wants,” Gansey said. His voice was calm, but there was a power to it that was undeniable. Even Declan bowed down a little. 

“Please, Gansey,” he said, recovering his false posturing. “Has he done anything the past week except try to drink himself half to death?” 

Gansey said nothing. He had nothing to say. Even Gansey couldn’t politician his way out of this one. Declan was supremely unimpressed. 

“You know what?” he screamed at Ronan. “Fuck thinking about yourself. Think about Matthew!” 

The youngest Lynch brother was always used as some kind of barrier between the other brother. He existed in a world completely outside of their heat and anger and neither of them wanted to be responsible for changing that. 

“I just want to go back,” Ronan said. He had meant it to be angry, matching Declan fist for fist. Instead, he sounded pathetic. He did want to go back. He wanted his Dad back. He wanted his Mom back. He wanted his house, he wanted his family. 

Declan looked resigned, Gansey looked sad.

He couldn’t be away from Gansey. He loved more about him than anyone else, especially now, now that his family was dead and gone. Gansey was the only person left on the planet who cared whether Ronan lived or died. He would never leave him. 

“I’m staying here,” he said, with enough force that even Declan didn’t have it in him to argue, instead, turning his wrath toward Gansey. 

“Fine, Gansey. You win. He’s yours. Make sure he goes to school. Don’t let him die,” he said, voice filled with ice as he walked out of Monmouth and slammed the door. 

Gansey turned back around to face Ronan, his brow furrowed and his face thoughtful. 

“Let’s get this cleaned up, I guess,” he said and Ronan felt guilty. Lately, he had been torn between what he wanted to do for Gansey and what he could actually do himself. 

He hadn’t been sleeping much which made his nights better, but his days worse. The days would drag and he would get lost in his head, a scary place.

When he did sleep, it was nothing but nightmares. The drinking helped, until it didn’t. Every day he felt like he was facing a battle he did not know how to win. 

In class, he could not keep his thoughts on the lessons. What am I? How do I stop this? Where can I find some answer? 

He thought about talking to Declan, but he always left those conversations feeling worse than he started. Also, conversations between he and Declan seemed to contain more fists than words. Sometimes, it felt good to hit and to be hit. 

He thought about talking to Gansey, but then remembered his promise to his father. 

He was in this alone. 

—-

Ronan liked Noah before he could even remember why he liked Noah. He was easy in a way that no one else in Ronan’s life seemed to me. There was not expectations and therefore no disappointment. 

“I know your secret,” the boy whispered softly. He was not looking at Ronan, not threatening him.

“Which one?” he asked as sarcastically as he could manage. The boy looked up to meet his eyes now. 

“All of them,” he said and for one small second, Ronan felt nothing but relief. All he wanted was to be known, to be accepted. He knew it was a mistake to hope for that. He needed to keep them all away in fear of getting to attached. It was easier to hate someone who hated you. 

It was in that second that he realized something about his father that he could never understand before. The thought made his heart ache. Like his father, he would live a lonely life until he died.


End file.
